


Life's a Stage

by mouwrost



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age Inquisition - Fandom
Genre: Gen, M/M, Tumblr, dickherald au, fic for feynite, fic of a fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 03:28:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6221788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mouwrost/pseuds/mouwrost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>fic written for feynite's dickherald fic that i submitted but now i have an ao3 so im pushin it over here too</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life's a Stage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Feynite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feynite/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Dickherald AU](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/181111) by feynite. 



Richard Trevalyan, certain inquisitor to be, was standing. Shocked, but still standing, as he read and reread the newest post in the tavern. This is to say, newest to him. At this point it was at least a week old, but he’d been running around sealing rifts and fighting the good fight! His mouth felt dry and he licked his lips as he tapped a finger on his chin. Upon seeing the news, he’d completely forgotten why he’d originally come into the tavern.   
“The Inquirer’s Tale: Love Across the Veil.   
Musical Production by the Sinquistion, Sister Nightengale to oversee auditions.”  
Richard could scarcely believe it. His story, his, and they’d had the gall to write an audition without consulting him? Madness! Who had written the script? While it was flattering that they would wish to put on a show, and true that he knew very little about musical composition, they should have at least brought him in as a cowriter! What if the show had been written by the hack writer that kept attempting to pair Lirillien and Elvenby together? That simply wouldn’t do.   
He pushed out of the tavern and made his way up to the rookery fully intending to demand a rewrite. Or to at least know who’d written it at all. So long as the characterizations were correct, he supposed, it wouldn’t matter.   
Sister Leliana was cooing at one of her particularly rude ravens. Baron Plooky or something else ridiculous and unbecoming. This raven had a habit of delivering Richard’s letters to Lavellan straight to Iron Bull instead, the damn thing should be retired.   
“Ah herald, welcome back. Was there something I could do for you?” Sister Leliana asked without looking at him as she scritched at the ravens neck.  
“This musical about the inquirer it-”  
“I’m afraid auditions are closed currently, we’ve all the help we need. The show is in two weeks since you’re interested!” she cut him off, sliding a sharp look at him that made him feel the need to correct his posture.   
“You misunderstand. I wish to know who wrote it.”  
She chuckled at that, and went back to stroking the probably senile bird on her arm. “It was based off the original transcripts, but the actual author has chosen to remain anonymous. Maryden did the musical score, it’s wonderful. You’ll enjoy it.” Sister Leliana slid another sharp look at him, but partnered it with a curt nod that he was certain implied dismissal. He was terrified of this soft faced woman, so he inclined his head and backed away. Baron Plooky squawked and menacingly beated his wings.   
Two weeks. He could handle that, maybe worm his way into the production somehow to make any necessary addendums to the script. Although, the thought of angering Sister Leliana made him feel cold inside. Best to leave it be, Richard.   
–  
Opening night, the stage set, and a sizable amount of the inquisition has gathered for the musical. Richard has been reserved a seat, front and center. His eyes are wide and his palms slick with a clammy sweat, every swallow feels heavy in his throat as the curtains on the makeshift stage in the courtyard are pulled back.   
The opening number begins, a trilling few notes from the small gaggle of minstrels reverberate through the air. Bull’s lieutenant, what was his name… Kris? Chrom? Stepped out in attire similar to Richards own armor, walking with an exaggerated, boxy swagger and his chin held high. He snapped his fingers and yelled out “Dwarvenby! Get in here”. Richard expected a dwarf, but of course the Iron Bull lumbered onto stage in cloths several times too small and a poorly made wig. It was possible it was fiber stolen from an old mop.  
The audience laughed excessively. Oh Maker, help him, had they written this as a comedy?  
The show proceeded with lines taken from Richards own writing, but portrayed with appalling humor and overblown movements. Most offensive was that the woman portraying Lirillien acted with no interest towards Pritchard Treeville in the slightest! She seemed uncomfortable around him, and far too many forlorn glances were exchanged between herself and Elvenby, whose actor was far too attractive and muscled for the character. There were many scenes where Elvenby also seemed to be glaring and tense around the Inquirer, rather than the meek manservant he’d been written as.   
The show continued, and Richard began to realize that most of the actors on the stage seemed to be a part of Bull’s company. He was most surprised to see that Enchanter Vivienne took to the stage as Madame Victoire le Fleur. A flook, he decided. His parallels to the inquisition were far too subtle to gain notice! Scout Harding also made an appearance as Lead Scout Harbing, he decided this was another flook.   
Into the second act and through a ridiculous intermission in which Sera juggling live bee grenades dangerously close to him, the romance plot finally seemed to kick in. However, not for the main man himself! Instead, Cassiopeia Pentagram was fawning over Dwarvenby, who was fawning over his writing, and The Big Oxman (who was also portrayed by Iron Bull) and Darian Puvas began to flirt in between more important lines of dialogue. The relationship between the Inquirer and Lirillien remained stale, and many scenes began with her and Elvenby whispering to one another, before pulling away with cleared throats once the Inquirer made his presence known. Richard was very curious as to how the playwrite could turn this around in time for the finale to keep it true to the original story. Surely they would keep the proper romance at the fore, wouldn’t they? The future inquisitor simply could not allow for incompetent writers ruining his story! What would mother say? Actually, maybe it’s best if mother doesn’t hear about any of this. Ever.   
The play was nearing its end, over the top declarations of love were made as the Inquirer and Company fell into the fade, passionate embraces were met with loud cheering and applause. Some of the more comical moments, particularly the Iron Bull ripping off the Dwarvenby wig to chuck it into the audience only smack Dorian in the face, did manage to make Richard laugh. But the need for closure ate at him. So many confessions and promises of devotion, and Lirillien wasn’t even a part of this scene! Where was she? Would the inquirer come sweeping out of the fade to sweep her into his arms as she sobbed in worry for him? Would SHE come rushing into the fade, saying she couldn’t imagine life without him? Perhaps it would end simply with a sweet kiss upon his return. As these ruminations worked their way through his mind, he missed a few lines exchanged between Elvenby and the Inquirer. Hence, he was doubly shocked as the two embraced, Elvenby dipping the Inquirer for a hidden kiss as someone (Sera, probably) made obscene noises from somewhere offstage. The curtains fell and the audience stood, applauding and cheering.  
Richard’s jaw went slack as he stared wide eyed at the stage. The actors and musicians taking their bows, somebody popped a fizzy beverage. It all seemed muted. Richard was shocked. Still sitting, but shocked, as he went over the scene again in his mind. He pursed his lips and in a huff exited the audience. Shaking his head, he wondered who could have possibly misinterpreted the story so terribly! He would need to find them. Or write a rebuttal. Or write his own musical. Something! This could not stand! Lirillien and Pritchard are meant to be together! He was aghast that anyone could do his story such an injustice, and again he avowed to find out who was responsible.  
He was not present as Sera accepted a bouquet upon revealing that she had written it.

**Author's Note:**

> i love to have a good time


End file.
